What's Her Battle? What's His Battle?

He'd been under general anesthesia that day. He'd been in the car for four hours. The numbing cream on his hand hadn't worked. The IV hadn't gone in the first time or the second. But none of the other moms knew that as he squirmed and complained in his piano class. They glanced over their shoulders at me and I resented their children's private-school frocks and ties.

This quiet crying and sidelong glares IS holding it together for her. We're pleased with this response because it's so controlled compared to what it could be and what it has been. Please don't stare.

When you asked how I was at the checkout counter, did you really want to know? I left my three year old screaming from his hospital bed a few minutes ago. His cerebral fluid is leaking and it is excruciating. My daughters are lost without their parents. I am scared. But you don't really want to know that. And that's OK. Just please understand when I'm not friendly.

You got out of your car to yell at me. I'm not even sure what I did wrong. You used words that aren't allowed in PG-13 movies.

Be kind. Everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. (Plato)

When I am tempted to criticize, please let me remember that I can't see their battle.

When I am tempted to idolize her life and children and marriage, please let me remember that I can't see her battles either.

Answer #13--It's All About Consistency

The power in prayer is cumulative.

My little acts of kindness only amount to anything in their total effect.

My children feel the importance of the temple when they notice that, "we just went to the temple a few weeks ago."

Each Family Home Evening is lonely and insignificant on its own.

Putting up with it and waiting it out and letting it go become patience in their quantity.

Our savings account grows with $50/month. It seems to shrink when I wait until we have enough money to put in.

"In my office is a beautiful painting of a wheat field. The painting is a vast collection of individual brushstrokes—none of which in isolation is very interesting or impressive. In fact, if you stand close to the canvas, all you can see is a mass of seemingly unrelated and unattractive streaks of yellow and gold and brown paint. However, as you gradually move away from the canvas, all of the individual brushstrokes combine together and produce a magnificent landscape of a wheat field. Many ordinary, individual brushstrokes work together to create a captivating and beautiful painting.

Each family prayer, each episode of family scripture study, and each family home evening is a brushstroke on the canvas of our souls. No one event may appear to be very impressive or memorable. But just as the yellow and gold and brown strokes of paint complement each other and produce an impressive masterpiece, so our consistency in doing seemingly small things can lead to significant spiritual results. “Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great” (D&C 64:33). Consistency is a key principle as we lay the foundation of a great work in our individual lives and as we become more diligent and concerned in our own homes." (David A. Bednar)

On the other hand, something is always better than nothing.

Answer #5--Something Is Better Than Nothing (Part II)

And Answer #7--Act To Do Good Quickly

Naomi's friend's mother had a baby a few months ago. I wanted to take her a meal. I wanted to take her kids for a playdate. I waited for the right moment. I wished I had the right food to cook. I didn't have her phone number. I tried to find the day that would work best. And in the end I did nothing. Stink!

I had a baby last week. A friend brought us cheesecake, Frutopia juice, blueberries, a box of individually wrapped snacks and a container of cream cheese. What a strange combination of food. What a gift it was to eat those blueberries by the handful at 5:30 in the morning, and give my kids the snacks when they were grumpy, and have cheesecake for lunch while everyone else was at church. The next day she called to invite all my kids over for a playdate. She said, in her experience, Day 3 was the worst. She remembered and acted before it was day 4 or 7 or 43.

I hope I've learned my lesson: A container of cream cheese is helpful. And act now while it is still Day 3.

"Is She The Same One Who...?"

"Yes," I didn't let my mother finish the question, "She's the same one as everything."

"The same one who made the quiet book?"

"Yes, and the same one who brought the cheesecake and all the food over.

And the same one who had Naomi sleep over when I was having the baby.

And the one who was making the dresses for Ethiopia.

And the amazing primary music leader I've been telling you about.

And the one who picked up my kids when I got stuck at the hospital with Chas before she really even knew me. And when I got to her house had a meal ready to send home with me even though she and her family all had colds.

And the one who took all three of my kids on a picnic outing yesterday when they'd been cooped up watching Avatar for a week.

She's the one who made this 'diaper wreath' and brought over a bag of hand-me-down baby boy clothes.

She's the same one as everything."


"My goodness! What a woman!"

Answer #5--Something Is Better Than Nothing

A couple of weeks ago I helped package up shoes and clothes and toys for nine orphanages in Africa. I asked several times, "Will they use this?" or "Is this helpful to them?" The woman in charge looked at me like I was crazy to suggest that Africans might not find Elmo stuffed animals, or fleece pajamas, or gold high heels helpful. The truth is she hasn't ever been to Africa.

I kept hearing the cynical, educated voice in my head say, "Don't impose our Western way of life on a culture that works in its own way." Later, with teary eyes, she told me that many of these children would get shoes for the first time in their lives because of our shipment. I cringed as I heard my internal voice argue that maybe life was OK without shoes. Is life OK without shoes? I don't know. I've never been to Africa. I've never had a moment without shoes unless I took them off intentionally.

And so I've spent a while digesting this experience. And I've decided that it falls into a category where I find myself too often--I think I'll do nothing until I know just the right thing to do.

No good.

Here's one of the lessons I learned when Chas was in the hospital. People asked what they could do. I mostly held them off and told them I'd let them know when I figured out what would be helpful. The truth is, I was too confused to know what would be helpful. I was waiting for just the right thing to ask them to do. The one, very most helpful thing I could think of, so that I would not use their help needlessly.

Many of them did not wait for me, but found things to do anyway. There were flowers and food. There were cards and emails and balloons. There were gas gift certificates and Happy Meals for my children. There were Franklin DVDs from the library and a CD player for the hospital room. There were Conference talks and phone calls and people who sensitively didn't stay too long when they visited. There was a bag that included fingernail clippers and a new toothbrush. There was a list of all 34 temple prayer-rolls that had been called. I think the list of helpful things people did could go on endlessly.

The point is, there was nothing that wasn't helpful at some level. Something is always better than nothing.

Sometimes we strike upon a way to fill the need perfectly. A few years ago my mother broke both of her arms. Her brother showed up with an electric toothbrush. Now that was a perfect match!

But, more often than not, we don't know how to fill the need exactly. Better for the need, and so much better for our own souls, to offer something rather than nothing.